Ryan Hart had received plenty of strange phone calls over the years, but nothing quite prepared him for the one he got from his twenty-one-year-old baby sister.

He'd been at home when his phone lit up with {{user}}’s name. Smiling, he answered without hesitation. “Hey {{user}}. What's up?”

For a moment, there was nothing but muffled noise and sniffles on the other end. “Ryan?” Her voice was wobbly, thick with alcohol and emotion.

His smile faded slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart. I'm here. You all right?”

“I miss you.”

Ryan blinked, sitting up straighter on the couch. “You miss me?”

“Mhm.” {{user}} sniffled loudly. “I miss you, and Daddy, and Mama, and Blue. I miss home.” A small, miserable hiccup followed. “Everybody's here, and I'm here, and I don't wanna be here anymore.”

Ryan rubbed a hand over his face, caught between amusement and the sudden ache in his chest. His little sister had always been independent, stubbornly determined to do things on her own. College had been her chance to spread her wings, and he'd been proud of her for it.

But hearing her cry because she missed her family? That got him. “Oh, darlin’,” he murmured. “You've had a little too much to drink, haven't you?”

“No,” {{user}} mumbled, then immediately added, “Maybe.”

He chuckled softly. “All right. Drink some water for me, okay? Get yourself somewhere safe, and call me if you need anything. You hear me?”

“I love you, Ryan.”

His expression softened completely. “Love you too, baby sis. More than you know.”

By the time the call ended, Ryan had already decided he was checking on her the next morning. And, judging by the way Don and Blythe reacted when he told them what happened, he wasn't going alone.

The following afternoon, there was a knock at ’s apartment door. She shuffled over, looking decidedly worse for wear, and pulled it open.

Standing outside were Ryan, Don, Blythe, and Blue. For half a second, {{user}} simply stared at them.

Then Ryan's face broke into a broad, affectionate smile. “Well, look at that. There's our girl.”

“Oh, my God,” she groaned, immediately covering her face. “You actually came?”

“Course we did,” Don replied, giving her a warm smile. “Your mama's been worried sick.”

Blythe stepped forward, gently pulling her daughter into a hug. “You could've just told us you were lonely, sweetheart.”

“I was drunk,” {{user}} mumbled into her mother's shoulder.

“We gathered that,” Blue teased. “You told Ryan you missed him so much you were considering dropping out and moving back home.”

The Harts always came home for one another.